Midnight Talks
by alirodina
Summary: The little things you hear at No. 12 Grimmauld Place when no one else is supposed to be there. Shifting POVs, really drabbly chapters and very, very light. No angst here at all, people. No steamy encounters either, but there you go. Er, SBRL.
1. Chapter 1

Midnight Talks

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters is to J.K. Rowling

Harry woke up thirsty.

It wasn't that he was particularly parched, but waking up in the middle of the night sounded better if there was a reason behind it. It was _not _ the bad dreams, he told himself. All he needed was a glass of water and he could go back to sleep just fine.

He got out of bed slowly, careful not to wake Ron up and arouse questions he was too sleepy to answer. The springs of the bed hardly creaked as he stood up, marveling at how sturdy most of the furniture in No. 12 Grimmauld Place was. It would never look or feel as comfortable and cozy as the Weasleys' house, but the Black residence still did look impressive considering that no one's been taking much care of it the last decade or so.

Harry had to smile at that. No wonder Sirius ran away from such a family. Sirius moved around the house comfortably enough; it's where he grew up, after all, and the sight of him drinking from monogrammed silver goblets didn't strike Harry as absurd as he'd first thought it would. But it was still pretty obvious that the constraints that come with such a lifestyle bored, if not altogether angered, Sirius Black.

So Harry couldn't really blame his godfather for being so restless most of the time, staying in the same house he thought he'd left forever. The fact that Sirius was also stuck doing housecleaning with Molly and the rest didn't seem to help matters any.

"Don't fuss. I'm fine."

Harry stopped, having reached the bottom of the staircase without realizing it. He looked around when he heard the voices, wondering where they were coming from.

"Goddamn right you're fine, you're bleeding all over the floors, Moony."

It was Sirius and Lupin talking, and Harry thought their voices were coming from somewhere near the hallway. The conversation was mostly done in whispers, owing to the fact that Mrs. Black might wake up at a squeak of a mouse.

Harry moved closer to the banisters, hoping that neither men would notice him if ever they'd walk past his way. He had a pretty vague idea about the sort of work that Lupin was doing for the order, requiring him to stay away from the house for long periods of time. But Harry wanted to know for sure what Lupin was doing exactly and this was a perfect chance to try figuring things out. Fred and George had the rest of the Extendable Ears, but Harry thought he'd risk it. It wasn't like Sirius and Lupin would think anyone else awake at this time of the night anyway.

"It's nothing much. Go get bandages, will you?"

"Come on."

Harry pressed against the shadows in the stairways as both men's footsteps went closer to where he was standing, moving towards the basement kitchen. That would be too far away for Harry to hear them properly, so he waited a few more seconds before following.

The door to the kitchen was left ajar, a sliver of light cutting a vertical line across the shadows and Harry stood close against the walls, straining his ears some more.

"I don't see how Dumbledore thinks this is going to help," said Sirius. The perfect beginning to any conversation, as far as Harry was concerned.

"We have to try all the options that we have. We're better prepared this time."

"If anything happens to you—"

"Listen to you, Sirius. You can take all sorts of risks and you worry about _me_?"

"Well, that's different." There was a pause, and then Lupin gave a sharp cry, followed by Sirius laughing. "Nothing much, huh? That cut's pretty deep."

"It's not if you're being gentle. Stop exaggerating." Lupin's voice was softer, and Harry had to step closer to the door to hear him.

"Wouldn't hurt you for the world, Moony," said Sirius, briskly. "Is it really so bad to worry about you?"

Lupin sighed. "Don't, Sirius."

"When are you leaving again?" said Sirius, testily. There were more footsteps, then the sound of someone stirring the logs, fire crackling.

"Dawn, by the latest."

"But your wounds haven't been properly treated yet!" There was a metallic sound that Harry took for Sirius striking the poker against something hard.

"This is fine. You've done a great job on it."

"It's not fine, Remus! What if you bleed to death in some alley—"

"Stop babying me, Padfoot."

Harry laughed silently. His godfather _was _behaving in a way that reminded Harry strongly of Molly Weasley, very much unlike the daredevil Sirius at all. But then again, he always did treat Lupin differently from everyone. Of course, there was something about Lupin that made people try to act calmly and make sense when he's around, which was perfect for a professor. The surprising thing was that it worked on Sirius as well.

Both men were silent for a while, and Harry thought of getting back up to his room without drinking his glass of water after all. But then Sirius spoke again.

"I still don't like it, no matter how many times you try to explain—"

"I know," said Lupin, making a shushing sound. Then there was a soft sound that Harry couldn't identify, and he heard Sirius sigh.

"But it has to be done."

"I promise to be careful if you would, Sirius."

"Not you too!"

"Well, it's not like you're the only one entitled to worry."

"Moony, can we just—" Sirius' voice was getting louder, closer to where Harry was standing.

Harry turned around, walking as fast as he could without making much sound. He was halfway down the hallway when Sirius called to him.

"Harry! How long have you been there?"

"I- I just came for a glass of water," stammered Harry, daring a glance at his godfather. The sight of Sirius' blushing face was so unexpected that Harry began to take heart. At least Sirius was too busy being embarrassed to scold him for eavesdropping, although what his godfather was being embarrassed about, Harry couldn't tell.

"Well, come on in, then."

Harry looked around before stepping in the kitchen. The fire provided the only light in the room, throwing the far sides in shadows. Lupin was leaning on one edge of the long table, holding his left arm gingerly. Harry couldn't see the arm under Lupin's robes, but there _was _a lot of blood on Lupin's clothes. Andarry Harry noticed there were some on Sirius' as well.

"Welcome back, Lupin," said Harry. "When did you get here?"

"Just a few minutes ago. I won't be staying long either," said Lupin, with a small smile. "There's something that still needs attending."

"When are you leaving?"

"Oh," said Lupin, giving Sirius a sidelong glance. "Before lunchtime, probably. I guess I'd rest a bit before working again, as should the both of you. We've all got a long day ahead of us."

"In different ways," muttered Harry.

"Maybe so," said Sirius, who seemed to have regained his good humor. "Now hurry up with that, Master Potter. The night is long, but not long enough. Let's to bed, shall we?"


	2. Chapter 2

Midnight Talks

AN: Characters to J.K. Rowling. Was not planning on writing any more to add to this, but the idea was too good to miss out on. Harry POV sometime soon, probably, when I feel better and the rain stops.

Set a few months after the first chapter, by the way.

*

"It's just a few weeks more before the Christmas hols."

Remus looked up from his reports with raised eyebrows. "Indeed."

"What are we going to give Harry, have you wondered?" Sirius sat back on his seat once he was sure that Remus was paying attention, lifting the front legs of the chair off from the floor as he placed his feet against the edge of the table.

"Feet down, Sirius."

"It's my bleeding house, Moony," Sirius pointed out, somewhat huffily. "And I can do whatever it is I want to with it and everything else it contains."

"Molly wouldn't appreciate your shoes getting anyplace near to where we eat, well heeled as your shoes are," Remus said, giving his report a final glance before folding them back neatly and placing them on the stack awaiting Dumbledore's perusal. It had never done anyone any good to ignore a huffy Sirius, and Remus was feeling tired and sad enough to welcome his best friend's diversion. "And we wouldn't want your brilliant brains all over the floors, do we, in case that chair falls apart altogether."

"This is mahogany, love. Been in the family for centuries. It won't fall apart even with my admirable presence on it." Sirius put his feet down back on the floor anyway, making Remus smile. Despite all appearances, Sirius was more of a stickler for decorum than anyone else Remus knew, not because of actual preferences but because the habits and manners instilled by Walburga Black could not die even after twelve years in the less than genteel atmosphere of Azkaban.

"You were saying something about Harry's present?" said Remus.

"Have you considered what to give him yet? We could go look for something later this week."

Remus thought about bringing up what Dumbledore had told Sirius about lying low, but decided against it at the last moment. While a lot of people think that Remus was the reliable one among the Marauders, he thought he deserved the Berk of the Century award as much as the rest for always letting Sirius do whatever he wants. James had always said it was Remus' worst character flaw, without which he would have been an upstanding member of society.

So Remus shrugged instead and increased the wattage of his smile. It wasn't like Sirius didn't deserve a break from all the cleaning and being cooped up alone in the house, anyway.

"I gather you already have something in mind?"

"Well, there's that defence group they've started out," Sirius began. "Maybe we can go to Diagon Alley, you know, pick a few books up on the subject."

"That would be nice," said Remus, looking down at his hands. "I've never given Harry a present before. That's remiss of me, isn't it?"

"We'll share," said Sirius.

"You don't need to. I—there are other things that Harry might find—"

"Don't be a git, Moony." Sirius leaned across the table, placing both his hands on the polished surface and fixing Remus with the patent pale-eyed glare. Sirius' hair had grown long again, falling down like fine streaks of ink against his dark robes and almost touching the table when Sirius exaggerated his pose, looming now over Remus like a particularly grumpy gargoyle. "You're coming with me and we're choosing Harry's present together, end of _that_ story."

"As if we have a choice in the matter, right?" said Remus, reaching out in spite himself and tugging at the loose strands of Sirius' hair. "Dumbledore would kill me if he finds out I let you gallivant around all by your lonesome. Wouldn't Padfoot be sad, with no one to play fetch with him anymore?"

"He might. But don't you think Sirius would get sad as well? More sad, in fact."

"Well, yes. And I certainly don't want to make Sirius Black sad. But don't tell him that okay? His head's swollen enough as it were." Remus smiled, tugging harder on Sirius' hair and tilting his face upwards so that his lips were only inches from Sirius'. "Won't Harry find it odd to get a present from both of us?"

Sirius shrugged. "About that, Remus—"

"Hmm?"

The touch was brief, Sirius' tongue flicking past Remus' lower lip before Sirius pulled away, looking somewhat sheepish.

"About that night you were er, wounded."

"Yes?" There was a threatening note in Remus' voice. Not that he wanted it there, but Sirius could take ages beating around the bush about the kind of things that embarrassed him and it was about time for bed. Not that Remus thought they'd be getting much sleep, anyway.

"I reckon Harry heard us talking back then, you know, through the door."

"Oh," said Remus, eyes widening slightly. "You think—you think he knows?"

"Well, someone's bound to know, right? What with Tonks almost catching us back then and there in the hallway." Sirius let out a rush of breath, which could have meant anything, except that Remus had grown up with him and his moods, and correctly interpreted Sirius' reaction as an attempt not to laugh.

"That wasn't funny, Sirius. What if it had been Molly?"

"Hey, if they want to make sure about things, they could ask. It's not like we're keeping things secret," said Sirius.

Remus sighed. "Well, no, we're not. It's our business, after all. But I'm not sure a demonstration would be called for during such circumstances, all in all."

"So, Harry?"

"Can figure things out on his own. On the other hand, he might want to be asking some awkward questions," Remus said, rubbing one finger under his chin. "Feel free to entertain such. You're his godfather, after all."

"No demonstrations?" said Sirius, grinning.

"What for?" Remus bit down at the last word when he felt Sirius' bare foot creeping up his leg, lifting at his robes under the table. "Don't! Your feet are cold."

"That can be remedied." Sirius climbed up on the kitchen table. It was quite large enough to accommodate the entirety of the Order of the Phoenix and the kids, so that he barely took up space on the polished surface. "Why don't we give Walburga something to really scream about?"

"As if she doesn't have enough reasons already." Remus stood up, placing his hands on his hips. "Didn't she ever teach you about climbing up on furniture?"

"Must have slipped my mind," said Sirius.

"_That_ can be remedied," said Remus, smiling briefly before stepping onto the table himself. "Let's see you playing the good boy for once, Padfoot."

*

AN: Oh, my, that really paves the way for a nice sequel :coughspank!ficcough: except that I want to keep things light and not rated too much here. Maybe in another life, then. Or maybe my blog... XD My mind is so sleazy.


	3. Chapter 3

Midnight Talks

AN: Harry Potter and all the rest is to J.K. Rowling.

Warning: General lack of corporeal Remus. Although he is very much in these people's minds.

*

"That's Harry's present?" Tonks reached past the mess of wrapping paper and sticky tape for her oversized mug of coffee. She was sitting on top of the kitchen table, swinging her legs once in a while as she watched Sirius wrap presents.

"Hm," said Sirius, making a face as he tried for probably the millionth time that night to unstick a stubborn bit of tape from his forefinger. "Bugger."

"That's why we have wands, you know." Tonks smiled. "Why didn't you make Remus wrap them up before he left, anyway?"

"Git couldn't be bothered, can he?" said Sirius, softly so that it wouldn't come out as a growl. "Out of the house before I can say a word to him concerning Christmas."

"Er, Sirius," said Tonks, trying to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl. Considering that she's barely out of Hogwarts herself, Sirius thought it was a valiant enough effort. "Remus left just this afternoon."

"The point being?"

"You couldn't have asked him during breakfast?"

Sirius shrugged. "We were—preoccupied."

"You make it sound so sleazy," observed Tonks. She raised one eyebrow, which was remarkably magenta at that moment. "You know you look really good when you're blushing? Makes you look almost healthy."

"Who's blushing?" said Sirius, mildly. "Watch out for Hagrid's present—biting peapod or somesuch. Where does he get those things, anyway?"

"Don't try to change the subject, Mr. Scarlet," said Tonks.

"You're pretty scarlet yourself."

"I knew it makes me look peaky!" Tonks pointed her wand at the small mirror hanging on top of the fireplace. "_Accio,_ mirror!"

"I don't think he disliked it," said Sirius, smiling to himself as he finished wrapping up the books he and Remus had picked up for Harry a few days ago. The bow was a bit lopsided, but that was quite all right. It wasn't like Harry wasn't going to tear the paper away in opening the thing anyway.

"Who?" said Tonks, nearly dropping the mirror as she turned quickly around to face Sirius.

"Careful there. I don't really care, but I don't think I have quite the energy to deal with Kreacher if he hears something breaking here again." The last time had been Tonks as well, walking in on Sirius as he was leaning down to kiss Remus, who had just gotten back from work for the Order. Molly had made Tonks bring in a tray of scones for the other members, which she promptly dropped trying to run away from them and down the hallway as fast as she could.

Sirius had found the whole episode funny (as did Remus, although he would never admit it), even if Kreacher _had _come screeching down at once from whatever room he'd been lurking in to complain about the noise and the desecration of the bleeding house. For warm and loving welcomes, it had been a most interrupted one, except that Sirius made sure to make up for it afterwards, when everyone else had gone away.

"You look like you've just had a wet dream," said Tonks.

"Maybe I just did. How dare you talk to your cousin like that! You should be ashamed of yourself, Nymphadora."

"Don't call me that! Just because you're a few years older," said Tonks, wrinkling her nose and laughing. It was much more than a few years, but Sirius certainly wasn't going to contradict her. "And don't use that imperial Black tone on me, either."

"But dear Tonks, us old people should set you poor lost ones to the right track, with all our gentle guidance and proper examples—"

"All right, Percy, where did you take Sirius?"

Sirius laughed, tossing Harry's (wrapped) present on the table with the rest. "Don't let Molly hear you say that."

"Aw, she knows he's a prat anyway. Damned if I know how Bill and Percy can come from the same household, anyway."

"I don't think Molly knows about prat," said Sirius, innocently. "So what are you going to give him this Christmas?"

"Who are you talking about, Sirius?" Definitely a reaction there. Yes, Tonks was turning the same shade as her spiky hair. Sirius smirked. "Bill or Percy?"

"Don't be a prat yourself. Remus, of course. Who else would I be talking about? I don't see you mooning over anyone else, do I?" He raised his eyebrows, deciding against waggling them, because the last time he did that, Remus burned them right off his face.

"I—how did you—I don't—" She placed the small mirror onto the table beside the gifts, looking down at it although it was angled away from her face.

"I like looking at him," said Sirius, simply. "That's why I know when someone else is doing it. You can even say I'm an expert in Lupinology."

"How long have you known?" she asked, almost tentatively. Sirius hadn't had much time to get to know his cousin better, but he knew a tentative Tonks wasn't something that you saw frequently. It was a bit unfair of him to tease her like that, but what was family for, right? At least, the good ones.

"Since you've caught us in the hallways. You started looking at him differently afterwards."

"I—you're not angry?"

"Of course not. Why should I be? He's Moony." Sirius shrugged.

"You two looked so hot back then, you know. I didn't know he could look like that."

"Like he hadn't been teaching at Hogwarts for a year?"

"Yes, something like that." Tonks blushed. "You must think I'm a real peeping Tom."

"Aw, me? After you called me hot? Of course not. Flattery does indeed get you places." Sirius sighed, sinking down the bench and summoning a bottle of butterbeer from the counter. "He likes you, you know."

"Yeah. But he likes you better." She made an erasing movement with her hands. "Forget that. He _needs_ you. He's absolutely where he wants to be. Argh, it's just ridiculous, the both of you, all hugs and looks and finishing each other's sentences."

"You're making me feel real nice and fuzzy inside, dear Tonks."

"Whatever." But she was still smiling, and looking like she was having a wet dream herself. "It's really nice, see, knowing that people being brave and loving each other even with everything that's been happening. That's one thing Voldemort can't take away from us, right?"

Sirius looked away. "I hope so."

She hesitated before saying, "I hope so, too. You'd make me very happy if you stay together forever."

"Forever is a vague concept, Tonks."

"Magic is supposedly a vague concept in the Muggle world, too. Never stopped us becoming wizards before."

"Hey, Tonks."

"Yes, Sirius?"

"I want him to be happy, too." He didn't say the words, although it hung between them, like a curse waiting to be cast. But he was sure Tonks would understand, anyway. If not now, then maybe later. She was young, but she knew well enough about the risks they were taking, the battles and deaths and if anything did happen to Sirius, he knew that Tonks would never let Remus bear it alone. The thought hurt, thinking of Remus moving on without him, but that was just Sirius being selfish. And bigger than that selfishness would always be Remus and what Sirius felt for Remus and he would never want Remus to be miserable because of him.

"Do you think," said Tonks, haltingly. "Do you think it's OK if I see you both kissing? That would be hot, really."

*

AN: Dost I detect a whiff of angst here? XD Bad Sirius!

But Tonks is very fun to write. I like fangirl!Tonks. I mean, she's cool, she doesn't care and she has PINK spiky hair. Don't tell me she never once considered Sirius/Remus or Remus/Sirius hot! (That's a _non sequitur,_ I know. But figure it out.)


	4. Chapter 4

Midnight Talks

AN: Harry Potter and all the rest is to J.K. Rowling.

This one is set some time after Christmas and would be the last of the bunch, which is obvious enough not only because of the difference in the way it's written but also because we all know what happens afterwards.

*

Harry flipped through the pages of his book absently, stealing glances at his godfather in between sentences, so that tips on dodging spells have somehow got entangled with the way Sirius' hair hid most of his face from view and the faint staccato sound of his fingers drumming against the arm of his seat.

"Harry?" said Sirius.

"Er, yes?" Harry almost jumped guiltily, eyes involuntarily flying towards the far side of the room where Lupin was curled up in a chair reading. Cursing inwardly, Harry tried to meet his godfather's eyes, succeeding finally in keeping his own trained somewhere near Sirius' nose. "Did you say something?"

"I asked you if there was something you wanted in particular for dinner," said Sirius, raising his eyebrows. He turned slightly to look at Lupin as well, giving away the fact that he had caught Harry looking at the other man earlier on.

"Not really," said Harry. "I—What about Mrs. Weasley?"

"She'll be visiting Arthur again tonight," said Lupin, rousing himself from _The Three Musketeers_.

"Oh," said Harry. Nobody had mentioned anything like that during lunch. "He'll be allowed to go home sometime soon, won't he?"

"We hope so," said Lupin. "Molly's trying hard not to show it, but recent events have been taking their toll on her."

"You're sounding like her yourself," muttered Sirius.

Lupin smiled. "Well, I'm certainly not an adept in the cooking department as Molly is, so Sirius would have to prepare dinner for us."

"Just the three of us then?" said Harry.

"I think Hermione's staying, too," said Lupin. "Only the Weasleys would be going. I think it's best we give them some time to themselves, under the circumstances."

"Oh," said Harry.

"You sound preoccupied today," observed Sirius.

"Like Lily does sometimes," added Lupin.

"Like before she needs to do something unpleasant."

Harry laughed softly. It wasn't often he reminded people of his mother, although he knew it was nothing anyone could help, with him looking too much like James Potter and all. But sometimes he wondered how much of Lily's son he was; if he reminded people of her aside from the color of their eyes.

"It's nothing," said Harry, after a short pause in which he felt Sirius and Lupin exchange a glance even though Harry never took his eyes from the pages of his book. "I'm just, you know, just."

"All right then," said Sirius, standing up. "I'd better get started, before Kreacher gets ideas."

"Can he cook?" Harry asked, curiously.

"That's what I'm afraid to find out," said Sirius, grimly. "How about you, Moony, anything you want?"

"I think," said Lupin, turning a page with a small frown. "I still think we should just go out for some takeaway."

"Ye of little faith." Sirius let out a low rumble of laughter. "Just you wait, Lupin. If I remember correctly, it hadn't been me who had burned all those pots and pans trying to—"

"Sod off," said Lupin, the first time Harry head the former professor talk like that, and he looked up to notice the corner of Lupin's lips twitching a bit. "It was only one pan, and it was cheap besides."

Before Harry met Sirius and Lupin, he would have told anyone who asks that he didn't believe people could actually remember all those vague bits of little nothings that has happened in the past. Harry himself was fifteen, and he could barely remember what he had for dinner the Monday of that same week. Except apparently, some people did. And because it would have been impolite to say so, Harry kept his thoughts about the sort of people who could talk about some burnt pan decades after said pan has been burnt to himself.

"Right," said Sirius, who looked like he had more to say about the subject, except Lupin said, "Sirius," in that warning tone of his and Harry's godfather left the room without another word.

Harry tried to concentrate on his book again except that his eyes kept straying towards the couch where Lupin was sitting and after several minutes of page-turning and throat-clearing, he finally speaks.

"Sirius seems to be feeling better lately, doesn't he?" said Harry, hearing his voice crack nervously in the middle of his sentences and hoping that Lupin would chalk that up to puberty than anything else more embarassing.

"Yes?" Lupin's eyes stopped moving, and after a while he closed his book and placed it neatly on his lap to give Harry his full attention.

"I mean, er, well, he was so unhappy before, you see. And I noticed," explained Harry.

"Well, yes," said Lupin, rubbing his forefinger against the underside of his chin. "This isn't exactly the most ideal place for Sirius to be, as you are well aware. It's quite normal that he feels a bit trapped."

"I—," Harry began, then forged on stubbornly like he sometimes does while playing chess with Ron and knowing full well it was going to be a checkmate in three more moves. "He worries about you."

Lupin smiles, although Harry could tell by the way his eyes widen that the older man was surprised. "What makes you say that?"

"He acts differently when you're home," said Harry. "Like the air is less brittle somehow. More, er, solid."

"That's a way to put it, I suppose."

"And you—you're more relaxed around him than with everyone else." Harry didn't even realize what he was going to say until he had said it, the statement that he knew to be true anyway. How Lupin and Sirius moved in some kind of synchronization, as if anticipating each others' actions and moving around it; the way Lupin could touch Sirius so casually when he seldom ever allows himself to touch anyone else.

Harry closed his eyes, remembering that time two years ago when he had been learning to conjure a Patronus and first heard his father's voice. The time that Lupin had almost reached out to touch Harry's shoulder and back then, he had thought that the professor had been careful not to seem like he was favoring Harry over the other students. Only later on, when Harry and the rest found out that Lupin was a werewolf, did he realize that Lupin tried to avoid contact with people because he was wary of how they would feel if they knew what he was.

"Harry, I—," Lupin began, interrupting Harry's thoughts with a nervous cough before letting his voice trail away.

Harry opened his eyes again, smiling back at Lupin, although both of them knew how nervous the other was and how one wrong word cannot ever be taken back.

"My parents," said Harry. "They were like this?"

"It's different for everyone, you see," said Lupin. "But yes. Yes, I must say they were."

"I'm glad," said Harry.

And they were quiet after that, a companionable sort of silence tinged by a secret shared that was rudely interrupted by Sirius calling out for Lupin to come down this instant before he tears all the hair away from his head and set the whole house on fire.

Lupin laughed, standing up and, "Let me take care of it, Harry."

Harry nodded, placing his hand on his shoulder where Lupin had touched him briefly before going out of the room.


End file.
